


Handsome

by DemonAngelSakina



Category: Original Work
Genre: And a Hug, Assassin - Freeform, Introspection, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Reflection, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Sniper - Freeform, character needs a therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonAngelSakina/pseuds/DemonAngelSakina
Summary: Handsome.What a subjective word.





	Handsome

**Author's Note:**

> To me, "beautiful" and "handsome" have always been subjective--everyone's opinion differs so greatly on the subjects that it literally seems like just some kind of illusion because no one can agree on it.

_Handsome._

_What a subjective word._

_That woman who said I was "handsome", I know that she was lying--I accepted that I wasn't "handsome"...what use are 'good looks' to someone like me?_

_That man who called me "attractive", he was lying too--they say I'm "too blind to see" how "attractive" I am...I see that they are delusional._

_But these delusions of others--males and females--they come about too frequently for my tastes...too confusing; maybe that's why I'm standing here in front of my only mirror with one of those 'male model' magazines that people are so fond of--no, I won't change myself to look like these men--I honestly doubt that I could even if I cared to make the attempt--but a comparison between myself and them should prove evidence enough that those people are delusional._

Looking at the cover, he already knows that this is going to be troubling for him; with a shake of his head, he sets the magazine on the sink and reaches up to remove the leather cord tying back his hair in a ponytail; he glares at the mirror through the shaggy locks that fall freely into his eyes, the length spilling down over his shoulders in an uneven mess. He pushes the pieces from his face before picking up the magazine once more and beginning to flip through it.

_The first few pages only show me that these "handsome" and "attractive" men have a dislike of wearing shirts--honestly, why would anyone choose to willingly pull their pants so low and walk around without some form of covering for their torso? What if they are attacked by an enemy--clearly they don't think about such circumstances and risks._

He pulls his black tactical shirt off and discards it to the side, leaving himself clad in only his black jeans and combat boots; the small room is far from cold...but he still shudders at being without his shirt, silently reminding himself that he is "only doing this for comparison's sake" as he looks up at his reflection in the mirror.

_I have to force myself to look in the mirror at my own reflection--the scars marring my torso and arms are what most have referred to as 'horrific'...some scars as thin as a razor's edge while others are the marks of a thick whip, scars from bullets, scars from burns both chemical and flame--some of the scars are darker than my own skin, the oldest are shades lighter, and the freshest still carry an angry shade--I was told that they were 'pink', but I don't recall that particular hue--another reason I cannot be "attractive" to anyone...my colorblindness--how could I be something desirable when I only see the world in black, white, and shades of gray?_

He looks away from the mirror in disgust at the scars that cover his tanned skin; a life in the sun as a child, mixed with a desert-born heritage, has given him a skintone that some would crave to have, but he can only see the scars that make him believe that his flesh resembles that of a little girl's patchwork doll.

_Some have stated that my "build is sexy"--looking at these pictures, I have to admit that I am in better physical shape than these 'models', but my job requires it for me to assassinate my targets and keep myself alive; someone who saw me in the gymnasium of our base said that they could "cut diamonds" with my abs--another delusional person; another said, while touching my arms and shoulders, that "this is a gunshow" they wanted to attend--such a foolish thing...my shoulders are broad and my body strong because I have to carry all of my weapons and tools on my person when I work...I need to be ready to defend myself in hand-to-hand combat as well, so I cannot afford to let anything of my musculature and strength begin to slip._

_Beyond all of that, my left leg is mechanical from the middle of my upper thigh and down--not that anyone, aside from the mechanic who builds and maintains it, has ever seen that part of me, but nonetheless._

He looks down at himself--not too bulky, though the muscles are cleanly defined and sleekly compact on his five-foot-eleven-inch frame; most of the scars have smoothed over the muscles--especially the oldest ones...but he still feels the faintly raised edges as he runs his fingertips over the most severe. The flesh that had been burned shifts between being rough to the touch or smooth as glass--once he thought that the changes in texture came from the manner of the burns' creation...but he doesn't think about it much anymore; the scars are just there...permanent etchings of a hard life on a body that has been pushed to it's limit.

_Looking at the pictures again, I see the men all have either squared jawlines or 'softer' faces; the mirror shows me that I have neither--almost a mix, really...my jaw has been broken at least once--that I remember--so the lines are...'off', but it does not hamper my ability to eat or drink, so it is of no matter. My nose has been broken one too many times--the bump there further proof of the delusions as all of these "attractive" men in the magazine have finer noses--certainly none of these "handsome" men carry my desert heritage either. My eyes are too sharp--I may be colorblind, but the rest of my vision is excellent...but the shape and hue--even though I no longer see the hue of my eyes, I remember their color--are not desirable for they do not match those of the men in the magazine._

_Then there are the rest of the scars...the few on my face--faint in shade, but they exist; two thin ones split the lines of my lips near the right side and corner...but, as with my jaw, the scars do not hamper my ability to eat or drink, so no matter._

His hand raises to his throat, touching the thin, light scar that stretches it's width--the scar marks the day, so long ago, when he was silenced forever...the day that his voice was taken when a now-dead soldier slit his throat to kill him; ten years without any means of treatment have only confirmed, in his own eyes, his lack of desirability--men and women prefer someone who can speak...someone who can flatter them and whisper sweet words of love...he knows that he can do neither.

Curiosity makes him raise his own hands to look at them for a moment--comparing his own hands to those in the magazine; his hands are rough with callouses and scars...those men's hands appear smooth and flawless--they are the kind who have never carried a gun nor knife, never had to fight for survival nor grip a building to flee a pursuit. He frowns as he drops his hands away--who would wish for his hands to touch them in any way? 

_Delusional fools._

With a shake of his head, he flipped through the magazine from the beginning again--perfect hair in a variety of shades...unlike his own pale hair that is "too long" and "choppy"...though the latter part is only because he only cuts the pieces that get in his face and could hamper his ability to shoot; the color is too pale as well..."silver" in it's hue...a color of someone old even though he has not yet reached twenty; he makes a soundless scoff at that--as if he would even live past twenty with the challenges and dangers of his job.

With a scowl, he drops the magazine into the trash can near the sink and reaches over to pick up his tactical shirt--slipping the tight black material back on and hiding his scars from the world once more. He picks up the leather cord--tying back his hair once more and glaring at the locks that have escaped his attempt, making a mental note to cut them later. His weapons and long coat soon follow--the motions taking on an almost graceful second nature as everything finds it's home on his body. He takes a moment to glance back one final time back at the mirror before putting his sunglasses on--completing his 'armor' against the world before he turns and exits the room.

Maybe..."handsome" is just an illusion.

**Author's Note:**

> Long-ish note ahead, just a warning.  
> This is a mixed first-person and third-person POV told from the first-person of an older OC character of mine, "Kairo", an assassin--not AC style though...more traditional sniper/'gunslinger'/blade user type.
> 
> As for why I chose to use this character in particular for this...well...  
> In a lot of RPs that I've used him in, the other people have had their characters hit on him--and the old pictures of him only get "he's hot" comments and all, hence why I refuse to post them until I get the new pictures 'worked out'. I admit, he would probably be pretty good-looking if not for all the scars and everything, but he's the type of person who has no value on such things--he only cares for being able to do his job. He values his intelligence and skills at his job above any 'looks' and believes that anyone who seems to see him as being physically attractive is delusional.
> 
> A friend of mine suggested that, in a new RP that Kairo get together with a guy who is his friend...but even I admit, all of Kairo's issues--physical and psychological damage on top of his serious lack of self-esteem--would make a relationship borderline impossible for him...or at least be something so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn't deal with it. If he were in a relationship, he would be spending too much time trying to figure out why someone could and would love him or want to be with him; he already spends a great deal of time trying to sort out why he even has a friend and what they could possibly see in him that makes him someone worthy of having a friend.


End file.
